The Games We Play
by Schizophrenic Eggplant
Summary: What happens when what we dream of becomes a virtual reality?? Read + Review! ^_^
1. 1: Welcome To My Life!

**DISCLAIMER:  **I don't own DBZ.  If I did, things would happen I say, things would happen!!!!!!

**Authory note:  **This is something I thought up after soaking up some creative input.  I don't own anything in the DBZ world, but I do own Me (if that makes any sense).  Yes, that is me in this fic, no pretensions…  I've had this idea like for a while now but it's only just come to me to write it in the form of a story.  And in no way is it gonna be a Mary Sue in the sense that I write myself being good at simply everything.. you'll see.  its gonna be a hard slog… and don't worry, I'm still working on Voices too! ^_^

** Is thinking **  and :: Is dreaming ::

**THE GAMES WE PLAY** by `InSaNe`/Schizophrenic Eggplant

**Chapter 1:  Welcome to My Life… sit down, have a cup of coffee… its not gonna hurt – much.**

It was the small hours of the morning, and most people were asleep.  Most sane people that was.  The youthful 24 year old woman stared at her computer with bleary eyes.  She had been working ever so hard to fill in a gap in her growing fanfic about all that had happened to her in her internal DBZ universe.  Her subconscious was a bitch to her in her dreams, and she so wanted to write about a particular scene to come later in the fic, but although there were a lot of close calls, it never came, not yet.  So far, over last night and most of this morning, she had written a total of three sentences.   With increasing irritation overriding her tiredness she bashed the ergo-keyboard.

"This isn't good enough!!!" She shouted.

"Sarah, it's 3 in the morning!!  Keep the noise down!!" Her mother, woken by her daughters impulsive outburst, drawled loudly from the opposite room.  

"Oh, shut up.." Sarah muttered under her breath.  Oh, how she wanted out.  To get away, to live the solitary life for a while, withdrawing from reality when she could.  Her parents were better than others, sure, they even accepted her Vegeta obsession to a degree (although they probably thought it was a phase… they should know its not by now) but her house was so small and constricting there just wasn't enough space to do anything.  Most people are happy with a well-paying job, money, a car, and freedom.  Sarah had pretty much all that, and she was happy to an extent, but what she truly wanted, was out of reach.  

** An escape from reality, drug-free, just running on pure mindpower.  A virtual immersion in a  3-D Dragonball Z world.  Where not just your sight and hearing fools you into being there, oh no, with this, EVERYTHING is involved, all the senses are indulged to their limits and beyond.  Taste, smell, touch…  everything. **

She snapped out of it, to think about this too much bordered on an extreme form of torture.  Wiping away a puddle of drool that had accumulated on her desk during that brief daydream experience, she forlornly gave her fanfic yet another once-over, and still couldn't wrack her brain for any more creative output at this time.  Feeling somewhat defeated, she declined to read her book or anything else, just switched her computer off and went to sleep.  Thank Kami it was the weekend and she didn't have work.  With a small sigh she transgressed across the bridge of consciousness and over to the realm of dreams.

**********                                

8 am or thereabouts.

:: She entered her room, or was it her room, the wallpaper was the same, but it was tidier, and roomier, and devoid of the DBZ posters and computer and most other things.  Her bed was bigger than the normal brass and painted wrought iron 'hammock' which she usually slept on.  She didn't pay much mind to the differences, for all she knew this was the room she'd always had.  Except for one thing.  The occupant on the bed, reclining, and… and reading(!)  Her conscious mind would be quite alarmed at this, because reading would be the last thing on this individuals mind.  Training yes, reading no.  Although it had looked like he Had done training earlier, judging by the sweat (or un-dried water-drops) beaded on his smooth calves.  

Currently, he was unaware of her presence, and she was fine with that, as she studied his body, in those snug blue spandex bicycle pants and tight blue sleeveless muscle shirt.  Gingerly, as not to cause that image to shatter, she reached out and stroked a hand along one prominent calf muscle.  In a blur the scenery changed and in the blink of an eye she found herself now on the bed, pinned under the compact muscular form, his face in her face.  Unable to breathe, she took in every detail – the rough flame of hair, the widow's peak, the eyebrows forming a permanent scowl, the regal nose, broken so many times but miraculously not out of place, and his mouth, which was the usual indicator for his moods, those lips gave away more than his eyes ever did, but strangely, not now.  It seemed they had somehow changed roles, just for this brief moment.  His mouth was a thin line, neither a sulk nor a smirk, just flat.  She then looked in his eyes, and became frozen.  Not with fear, but with wonder, and just knew that those eyes would haunt her waking moments once she realised she was only dreaming.  They were intense, burning coals, corroding her resolve, challenging, inviting, with a hint of predation, deliciously trapping her in their void of obsidian.  

She ran her hands tentatively up and down the hills and valleys of corded muscle along his back, so familiar in some ways.  Then her concentration was broken, and foolishly she broke the stare, and again became aware of where she was – in her bedroom still, and the door was open.  She didn't particularly welcome the idea of her parents interrupting her in this embrace to conquer all embraces, so she thought aloud:

"Argh…  I need to shut the door.."  At once, the gorgeous warmth atop of her disappeared as Vegeta wordlessly got up off the bed, and walked to the door, kicking it shut with a small movement of his foot.  It was then he flashed her a small smirk, before peeling his shirt off and sauntering back to the bed.  She gritted her teeth in frustration, cursing him silently to hurry up and get his battle-scarred body back where it was before.  Once again, she was crushed beneath him, and the two of them began to prepare for the timeless dance… ::

The noise of an motor could be heard in the far distance, and the clunk of the small metal bridges over the gutter pierces the dream, causing the fabric to waver a little, as an ominous black van parks over the driveway outside the house.  The 'bitchy subconscious' chose this small distraction of sound to quickly operate.

:: All of a sudden, and instead of being ground mercilessly against the mattress in first person, the perspective switches to third person and in place of the spellbinding scene in front of her, words appear, and she only reads what happens between the two locked together in pure passion.  She can hardly make out the words, only picking up random snatches of sentences.  Is she making this up, or is it from some greater dream force placing them there on the page.  She is separated from the scene, as if it never existed, the words on the page burn into her as she reads, forgetting them after her brain absorbs the sentences.  She wants to get back, back to how it was… ::

RINGARINGARINGARINGARINGARINGARINGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!

** Curses!!!  So much for that… ** 

Next Chapter:  Something unexpected to top off a usually boring and unproductive weekend.

Shall I continue?  Or am I wasting my time… -_-


	2. 2: This Doesn't Happen Everyday?

**DISCLAIMER:  **I could climb the highest mountain, I could fly above a tree; to each their own, the truth be known, I don't own DBZ!

**Author Notes:  **It was a long time coming, but this chappy needed to be treated with Metamucil to ease the imagination constipation!    
                        ** Is me thinking!!!**  Woohoo!!!  Please, read and review!

**THE GAMES WE PLAY**by `InSaNe`/Schizophrenic Eggplant  
**Chapter 2:  This Doesn't Happen Everyday?**

Sarah jerked awake as the noisy doorbell chimes fade slowly.  Because she was woken so suddenly she is still floating in that world between dreaming and reality.

"I must read too many fanfics… it's corrupting my dreamscape, how dare it just switch to text like that… Grrr…"  Then she stopped rubbing her eyes and feeling sorry for herself, and sat up in rapture, gasping.

"But… I remember those eyes!!!  Oh Kami, those eyes…  I'm so lucky I remember all my dreams like that, I'll never forget that look, I'll have to incorporate that into my fic somehow… and what I have cooked up for that future lemon is far more superior than most of that dream.   A bed, honestly, how conventional!  But still…  I'm gonna have to make note of it in DreamRants.txt."  

Pulling a Lobo t-shirt over her head, she got up to see who was at the door.  If it was someone with a clipboard, or pimply little humans wanting money for their school stuff, or important-looking suits with briefcases (hey I might've missed a disclaimer somewhere), she would just shut her door again quietly and go back to bed.  If it was religious nuts, and she was in the mood, she would open the door – in time to yell "HAIL SATAN!!!" – and then quickly shut it in their faces.  No-one was there but through the net curtain screening the bubble-glass-paned front door, she saw a fairly big package lying in the porch on the doormat.  There were no humans around, but she could hear the van or whatever it was speed up the street, she had just missed it.  Oh well, no bother.  She opened the door excitedly, she really enjoyed unexpected things to pop up like this, out of the ordinary, be it packages, letters, …spacepods.  And it was Sunday, no post or anything arrives on Sunday.  Grinning, she hefted the package inside, and threw it on the bed, biting her lip as she just only noticed the 'Very Fragile' sticker situated on the top.  The box was plain white with what looked like random black curves on each edge.   It wasn't addressed as such, not even a stamp, just scrawling in a black calligraphy pen on part of the packaging that had more white than black.

'For One who Desires',  it read.  

"Creepy", she mouthed in amazement.  "Cool!  Lets see what's in this baby!"

She ripped open the box as carefully as she could.  To put it metaphorically, her face became bathed in a light coming from inside the box.  An expression of reverence adorned her features, and from some unknown place, that ever annoying 'Haaallelujah!  Haaallelujah!!  Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Halleluuu'—then the ripping sound of a stylus being scraped along a vinyl record.  

"Gah… that was bad…  BUT THIS IS AWESOME!!!"  Inside was a helmet of some sort, some cables, a PCI card to plug into her computer and drivers for the hardware, and a meticulously folded suit made of thin fabric and latticed with intricate circuitry.  There were also some pretty hi-tech gloves, made of the same fabric, and networked with something that she guessed would simulate nerves, and hopefully pressure sensors.  

"This is TOO good to be true!!!" She rejoiced.  Still not believing what she saw, she left her room, waited a minute, and then re-entered.  It WAS real, still sitting on the bed and waiting to be used.  It called to her, to install it, to try it out.

In a haste, she unplugged her computer, pulled it out from its little home in the desk, and attacked it with a screwdriver.  She was used to this, she had built her computer up from scratch and knew about most of the inner workings.  One PCI slot was free so she inserted the card into it carefully, then screwed it in, replaced the covering and re-attached the plugs.  On the back of her computer were more input/output jacks for the usual audio and video, and two special ones for the suit.  Shivering with excitement she switched the computer on and waited for it to boot up.  While she waited, she removed her clothing and crammed herself into the skin tight cyber-suit, taking care not to rip the sheer fabric.  It felt weird, a little cold, but not unbearable.  She chose to wait until the last minute to don the gloves and helmet, and kept them on the bed beside her chair.  Once the computer had booted up, it gave her the 'new hardware device' prompt.  The description of it was 'CC Classified X Device'  - CC?  No way, there was no chance it could be…  She inserted the CD that just had a plain white face on it, and a title screen appeared.

'Welcome to the Ultimate DBZ experience!'  It proclaimed.  She clicked on the button that read 'Install Drivers', and waited the few seconds the 1.7 GHz processor took to sort that out.  She nearly threw a massive wobbly when she was told to reboot, but she obeyed the almighty computer.  Knowing she didn't really need to type any more or do any detailed mouse-clicking, she slipped on the gloves.  They had little connectors at the wrists that obviously mated with the ones near the sleeves of the suit.  She clicked them in and sorted through the wiring, and found two male jacks that she connected into the suits input and output sockets at the back of the computer, and while she was back there she also hooked up the helmet audio-visual plugs, to save hassle.  The CD-ROM whizzed into life and the title screen came back up.  She couldn't quell her shaking as she hovered the mouse cursor over 'Begin', and clicked.  A little window faded onto the screen, asking her to put the helmet on and stand by.  This 'helmet' consisted of a hard skullcap with electrodes on the interior, and a full face covering down to the neck, of the same fabric the suit and gloves were made of.  The material was so thin, it didn't restrict breathing.  Two eye pieces showed the same image, making it appear 3 dimensional.  All she could see right now was 'Please Stand By' in flashing bold red lettering on a black background.  Small ear pieces were on the inside of the cloth, and she fastened those into her ears.  Now she was fully covered from head to toe in this strange material, ready to be transported to the DBZ realm in full-consciousness.  

As if to delay the process further, the standby notice vanished, and was replaced by some more words.

'Initiating Brain Scan'  Numbers wound their way up, ascending to 100% after what feels like ages.  Her head tingled continuously after 15%.

'Loading sensory data', accompanied by a blue progress bar creeping from one side of her vision to another.

'Loading neural data', and another one wormed its way across, slowly.  How many of these were there going to be?

'Loading A/V data'. Those ones didn't take as long.  She hoped it doesn't turn out too blocky.  Her mind deduced that was all that needed to be loaded up, but she was wrong, the worst was yet to come.

'Loading intro'. And this progress bar wasn't a worm it was more like a snail.  It inched (millimetred) its way across her field of vision at a painful rate, almost stalling at around 90%.   Sarah almost thought it had crashed, but it counted up one percent ever 30 seconds, and in a five minute eternity it was complete, and what followed was an excitement-inducing black screen of nothingness.. (you know… like before a movie starts..)  She got the impression of floating in space as the pressure points neutralised the chair. 

Suddenly a deep bass grabbed her brain and squeezed it.   It's starting!  

The little VDU screens were filled with colour and the earphones filled with pumping industrial/electronic beats as the intro began, and Sarah was flung into a bright world of defined shades.  She could hardly contain her glee as she 'flew' above Chikyuu, fast as anything.  Landscapes, sea and forest skimmed below her.  She would be understating things if she said she was disappointed when it faded out, to show a short scene of people walking down a busy street, some with the heads of tigers, pandas and dogs.  

** Yup, it's definitely the DBZ realm **  The angle moved (or did her head) up to the skies, where two round shiny objects dropped towards the ground, and it faded out before they crashed into the buildings.  The crunch of distorted guitars launched into her headphones as she felt various jabs at her ribs.  

** AWESOME!! And this is just the intro! **  She thought as she was being caught in the middle of a sparring session between Yamcha and Krillin on Kami's lookout.  She swore that Krillin yelped as a punch connected before it faded out.  At once, the churning guitars ceased, replaced by ambient electronic music in chord progressions produced by gods, as she witnessed, first hand, all the glorious colours of a DBZ sunset over Roshi's island, with steadily swaying palms and the silhouette of Kame House.  Waves roared in her ears, in stereophonic sound, as they crashed against the beach.  The ambient music became slower, and the tinklings of electronic chimes set above a harmonious mid-range chorus, helped paint the final picture, and if she was in any state to comment, she would have wondered if it was blatant corporate advertising.  There, bathed in moonlight, were the grounds of the huge Capsule Corporation complex, complete with its dome-shaped mansion with a balcony.  The detail was so precise that she could see the furnishings inside the well-lit house.   Then everything faded to black, and the moon was the last thing to disappear as the music died out quietly, leaving her in a dark floating silence.

A crisp, friendly female voice spoke into her earphones.

"Hello, and welcome to 'Universe!'  brought to you by Capsule Corporation.  If you received this game by mysterious circumstances, you already know what Capsule Corporation is, and what we do.  The question is, how did we get it out to you?  The answer, in all its simplicity is not what you would think.  In fact, by the time this game starts, you won't know of us at all, until you are integrated into the game.  To be brief, and I pardon the pun, you're current knowledge of DBZ, which we have found to be quite vast, will be erased temporarily during your 'life' inside the game.  

Her body tensed up, and she couldn't believe what she was hearing.  How would she be able to—

"Oh don't worry, as you might have figured out by now, the game has scanned your brain, and various clues will be set among the play, whether or not you pick them up may make all the difference; some will produce drastic changes throughout gameplay.  Also through scanning your thoughts, we have discovered the type of character you would like to be.  Unfortunately, immortal universal denizens are out of the question.  However we have created a similar likeness, but unfortunately due to the total lack of challenge, it will be impossible to replicate your choice of character.  Do not distress though, your memories of DBZ and the existence of your character will return to you shortly after termination of your gaming session."

That relieved her slightly, but something else niggled at her…  surely there must be—

"The rules are thus:  Each session spans for 24 hours of time within the game.  After those hours are up, you cannot play again for a minimum of two hours your time.  This safeguard is included to prevent you from becoming totally addicted and forgetting you have a life outside this gaming universe.  You can die by any causes, just like anyone else of your ki level.  Because of your chosen race, each time you die, you will come back a little more stronger than before, of course this depends on the nature of your death, your ki-level at the time.  Style of death may also be a contributing influence to your ki.  Ki points are generalised.  As well as being a measure of your power, they count as hit/attack points, and experience points combined.  If you learn a new skill, whether it is fighting or life skill, the points increase in specific increments regarding level of skill, and efficiency of learning.  You won't know your exact ki level unless you find something or someone, who can detect an exact level.  The only way you will know it exists, is that you can feel it.  That in itself is not an easy task.  There isn't much else to say now, but good luck, and… don't be a hero too soon.  Are you ready to continue?" 

A million and one thoughts and questions raged through Sarah's brain.  And maybe a hint of apprehension?  She knew what it was like having her mind messed with…

** But that was with drugs… maybe this time it will be different?  I guess I won't know unless I find out. OK, I'm ready as I'll ever be. **

A hypnotic black and white spiral whirled in her vision.

**CHEESE!!!  HA!  Like that'll work!  And they call this hi-tech… Pfft.  Round and round it goes!  Wooo  it's a Zebra Pizza!!!  Blah… so boring… but still it spins.. and spins… and spinzzzzz… **

Into a buzzing psuedo-sleep.

********               ************

OK it took me AGES of thinking and various dead-ends and writers block just to finish this chapter… but I REALLY REALLY wanted to do this, so I sat in front of the computer till I could sit no more, then I stood, and thought for a bit, and a few days passed… Then I began getting ideas.  I have a good feeling about this fic… anything can happen…. Yes… ANYTHING!!!!  


	3. 3: I've Always Lived Like This?

**DISCLAIMER:  ** Even though it's been nearly a year since I updated this, I still don't own DBZ.  Not at all.  Not even the tiniest skerric.  I will own Vegeta one day (in name only).  That is my goal.  I shall achieve it. :)

**Author Notes:  **Thank you SO much for the reviews and the positive feedback.    
                        Jeril Dragonsoul:  I did a double-take when you reviewed this story.  I am honoured that one of my fave authors took the time out to review my work.  Thanx so much! *criez*  
  
                       Crecy:   Yes, I agree with you that it is time to continue with this… although I don't know how long it will be until I update again… Just keep checking, maybe I will.  I'm still tryin to nut the story out in my head! :P  

                        Piccolo's Vampire Princess:   I'm updating it now so you got what you asked! ^_^

**THE GAMES WE PLAY**by `InSaNe`/Schizophrenic Eggplant  
**Chapter 3:  I've Always Lived Like This… Haven't I?**

There was nothing but buzzing in a black nothingness.  Then she saw words and numbers appear before her, in categorical order.

Level: 1   Ki: 5   Exp: 100   Strength: 2   Health:  200/200   Power-Ups: 0   Items: None.   

They were bright green, and faded like a dying glo-stick, back to the darkness from whence they came.  As they did, the buzz grew louder, to the point it was getting annoying.   It was the most annoying noise that existed in the warm black universe.

"Mitzi!!  Wake up, turn your alarm off and get your lazy arse out of bed or you'll be late!"

Make that the second most annoying.  One eye opened, followed by the next, and then closed due to extremely blurry vision.  An arm whirled limply around to silence the offending clock, and fumbled trying to locate the 'off' switch.  The contours of the rectangular cuboid timepiece and noisemaker were unfamiliar to blind touch.  Eyes sprang open in reluctant anger, searching for the menacing switch.  Once found, the bedroom became bathed in silence.  The evil red LED numbers read 6:45.  More numbers.

In a half-asleep daze, she sat up.  Something wasn't quite right, but she couldn't put her finger on it.  Yesterday and beyond had seemed like a blur, and last nights sleep was very deep and dreamless, except the weird RPG stats she received nigh on waking.  She looked around her room, detached.  Everything was the same as it always was, yet the very ether seemed unsettled.  Blaming it on not being quite awake, she put on a robe and slippers and walked downstairs into the kitchen.

** Wasn't it always on the same level?**

Everything was bright.  TOO bright.

"Morning hon!  I've just made you some nice toast with raspberry jam!"  Chirped a cheerful looking mother-figure, with an apron around her middle.  Her smile was enough to give one a headache.

A tall man entered the room, wearing a crisp new suit, and a younger girl sat in a chair, spooning cereal into her mouth like there was no tomorrow.

"How's my Minni this morning?"  His baritone voice warmed the very soul.  He playfully ruffled the young girls dark brown hair.  She looked up from her cereal, as she was now distracted.

"DADDYYYYYYY!"  She squealed, as she opened her arms out for a Dad-sized hug, her eyes closed and turned into upside-down U's depicting unbound happiness, and he scooped her up, whirled her around the room a few times, and placed her back down in her seat.  Apart from slightly crooked glasses that he corrected, his suit was still impeccably pressed as ever.  He gave Mitzi a warm smile.

"And how's the budding scholar?  You do you any study last night?"  Mitzi gave him a blank look.  One he completely misinterpreted.

"Hey, I don't mean to pry!  I should know by now that I don't need to ask.  Do I get to wish you good luck for today?"  He winked at her as he picked up his briefcase, kissed the singing woman who placed some thick, uniformly-spread toast slices under Mitzi's nose; and walked out the door.  The sound of a fast car zoomed up the street, as the man left for work.  She hungrily took a bite of toast and chewed pensively.  Behind her blearily calm expression, her brain tried to kick into gear.  A few cogs seemed to be missing.

** Study?  Good luck?? TODAY???  I don't remember any exams I had to sit recently, but, what if… **  

She put the toast down quickly and bolted up the stairs, back to her room.  

"Mitzi..!"  Her mum's startled cry of the unexpected sailed up after her.  Ignoring it, she scanned her room until she found her bag, and unpacked it.

A pristine folder greeted her, with all the subjects listed alphabetically.  English, Maths, History, Science…  which one was she supposed to have studied??

"DIARY!"  Mitzi had to remind herself.  For some unknown reason, it felt like years that she had been to school, when in fact it was only yesterday.  She flicked through the diary, only quickly glancing up to the calendar on the wall to see what the month was.

** November… That sounds about right.  End of year exams? **

Flipping through the month of November, she came upon some words in huge, happy writing:

MATHS!!!!! and HISTORY!!!!   With a little smiley face next to 'history', for a reason she guessed was that it was her favourite subject.  Sighing unhappily, she placed the folder back in her bag, and walked over to the full-length mirror on the back of her bedroom door.  Her black hipster flared jeans hugged her upper thighs like they were a second skin, and hung below her navel in an alluring manner.  They were a little holey and worn in some places, but they were her favourite pair, and nothing and no-one was going to make her discard them.  A tight black t-shirt, with "Make Me!" in silver lettering, stretched across her seventeen-year-old breasts.  Irritably, she noted that a small annoying strand of her dark hair stuck out from the rest.  It was scruffy mid-length hair, which she tried to keep reasonably straight and tidy with a special chemical treatment.  Squeezing some of the treatment out of the tube, she smoothed the offending piece down.  Dark eyes regarded her reflection critically, until she turned away.  She went to wash the remainder of the sticky hair treatment off her hands, and became somewhat surprised when she couldn't feel the greasy texture between her fingers.  That's something that hadn't happened before.

Suddenly she felt an urge to get out of the house.  Call it instinct, call it sixth sense, or call it un-necessary paranoia.  Shouldering her bag, Mitzi rushed downstairs towards the front door.

The banging and stomping alerted her kitchen-confined mother.

"Mitzi dear you didn't finish your toast!"

SLAM!!!   The bland-tasting toast was the last thing on her mind as the door reverberated behind her.

Leaving it all behind, she focused on her new objective:  getting to school.  Only one thing was amiss – she couldn't remember the right streets.  Every street she sprinted up was almost just the same.  After another fruitless search along a street that had seemed promising, but ended up as a dead-end slum, she slowed herself to a walk.  To her relief, she saw signs of life back on the main road, and went to take off into a run again, but found she couldn't move.

"Wha…?" 

"One more noise and your dead, missy!" Hissed a gruff voice, as greasy hands took her bag and slid briefly under her t-shirt.  She heard a slight grunt of approval at what the owner of those hands had found there.

"Hey Griz, you take her money, and I'll just take her."  Obscene mocking laughter filled her ears.

"No way, Moke, you said we'd split the goods 50-50!  She looks like she wants it, be a bit o' fun don't ya think?"  The one called Moke smacked his lips in agreement.

Mitzi struggled as much as she could without screaming.  She did not like this situation one bit and wanted to get out.  She couldn't remember what to do in positions like this… do you do what the men say or do you fight back or do you use your brain and try and reach a compromise?  Who was she kidding, how does one reason with the unreasonable?

Pressure dug in around her neck and ribs, where she was tightly held, and the tip of a sharp blade pressed between the blades of her shoulders, that reminded her of its presence each time she moved.   Something bit at her mind; the notion that she wouldn't get out of this alive, even after the thugs had had their fun.  Guys like that didn't just leave you alone after they were finished, to them others lives were expendable.  But what could she do?  She didn't know how to fight, how to defend herself, she was just a weak vulnerable girl, in a world of strong brutish males.  An unfamiliar feeling welled up inside her, that twisted around her guts, clawed up her spine, and exploded in her brain like acid, corroding the hopelessness that was dwelling there.  For a moment she went slack, like she had finally given up the fight.  She let the men's sentences fuel her hatred, each word a glowing ember of homicidal motivation.

"I think we have a ready customer Moke, we've tamed the she-devil!"

"Well, it's about time the little flossie's broken!"   Moke gleefully replied, then his eyes focussed on the words on her t-shirt.

"'Make Me!'?" He mused, before his thin lips twisted into a smile of teeth like dulled ivory piano keys.  "Oh, we'll make you alright."

Griz brought himself around to face her, his body pressed dominantly and unwelcomingly close, and bent down to be equal to her height.  She could smell a scent of unwashed clothes, saturated in stale sweat, alcohol and an unidentifiable smoky odour.  His yellowed teeth seemed to ooze a sickly-sweet smell, that made Mitzi's nose wrinkle.  Greasy, lanky hair covered his forehead, obscuring an uneven receding hairline, and hid the scars on his face.  His dark, liquid eyes surrounded by bloodshot veins regarded her with lecherous menace, looking like burnt fried eggs in the middle of a white cracked griddle. 

"Heh heh heh.." He laughed in a slow wheeze, covering her in his rotting cheese breath that would make a sewer rat faint.  "Make you scream, and that's only the beginning."  He breathed in deeply and noisily through his nose, clearing the crusted mucus, or smelling her fear. 

Mitzi picked her moment.  It was do or die.

"We've got plans for you, missy." Moke's gravely voice drawled.

Griz motioned to Moke to relax his hold a little bit so he could gain further access in order to violate their young victim.  That was all she needed.  With the pressure released slightly, Mitzi used the element of surprise.  Determination blazing in her eyes, she used the power of desperation to wrench out of their grasp, and make a dash for freedom.  A rough hand grabbed the strap of her schoolbag as she was pulling away.  With the other arm, she turned and punched her assailant as hard as she could.  Griz had managed to dodge the full impact of the blow, Mitzi's fist merely grazed his stubbly cheek. 

"YEEOOOW!!! You stupid bitch!"  Grazed it may have, but it had caused some damage.  Moke stared at Mitzi, knowing that something wasn't quite right.  

"Whaddya thinkyer doin, ged her!" Griz barked through a swelling face.  Mitzi sprinted up the alley, back the way she came, not looking back.  She swore she could feel hot, fetid breath on the back of her neck.  Arms and legs pumping in a frenzy, she didn't dare stop.  Until that decision was made for her, by a faster, solider object.  Everything went black, with no pain.

~~~~~~~~~           ~~~~~~~~~~~           ~~~~~~~~

Conscious thought still remained.

"Wha… what happened?"  

"You died."  A female voice.  A familiar voice.  As if she had never heard it, yet had only heard it a few moments ago.

"D-Died?  But I got away from those guys!"  Mitzi felt like her mental voice was deeper than it normally was.

"Yes, you did.  That was a great effort, but you weren't so lucky with the hover-bus.  You never saw it coming, you were so panicked."

"Hover-bus?  Whoa, messy.  So what now?  I've always wondered what the afterlife is like."    

"You go back."

"BACK?  But you just said I was dead!"

"Only temporarily.  Soon you'll be placed back as if it had never happened.  You will never recall this time or place."

"Like reincarnation?"  

"Yes.  Except you will still be you."

"Weird.  This doesn't happen everyday."  

The other voice chuckled.  "No, it doesn't.  Now time to go.  Trust your instincts a little more this time."

"Um… OK."  Mitzi was a bit taken aback at all this.  She'd been killed, and now she was getting another chance?


	4. 4: General Confusion as Usual!

**DISCLAIMER: ** DBZ I do not own, e'en now, or when I turn to bone, it shall be written upon stone.

**Author Note: **I so suck at updating, but I paused this story for a little (along with the direct updates of the others – I am working on them though, just a lot further along in the story so I keep some future updates a lot more steady than this). I'm actually getting more interested in writing original works, and have completed a short story type thing, but not uploaded to fictionpress.net, which I will get around to doing.

**THE GAMES WE PLAY **by InSaNe/Schizophrenic Eggplant  
**Chapter 4: ** General Confusion, as Usual!

Numbers flashed before her.

Level: 1 Ki: 6 Exp: 102 Strength: 4 Health: 195/200 Power-ups: 0 Items: Schoolbag.

Bright green, they faded away like numbers on an old glow-in-the-dark clock.

"That's so strange! I swear I saw those numbers before. But they were diff—" Before she could recall where from, scenery flashed before her, and in a blink of an eye, what once was darkness, was a semi-crowded city street that looked familiar. In front of her, was a shop called 'Checkpoint'. Funny name for a shop.

For a fleeting moment, she had a notion that she was without her schoolbag. Looking to her shoulder, she was relieved to find that the strap was still there, and the bag behind her attached to it. Everything seemed intact. Still, in a bit of a daze, she made herself move in the direction she was faced in.

"Mitzi!! Hurry up! You're going to be late for school if you keep dragging yourself like that!" A girl her age sprinted up the street towards her, arms waving frantically and curly blonde hair blowing about. She slowed down as she reached Mitzi, who was a little surprised that this stranger had fallen in beside her.

"Do you know what the time is?? Come on, get a move on! We've only got five minutes!" Mitzi soundlessly increased her walking pace, whether it was the urgency to get to school or away from this weird female who knew her name, she didn't know. Maybe it was both.

"That's more like it!" The chatty, frenetic invader of personal space walked beside her, taller than the petite Mitzi, faded blue denim jeans creasing and stretching with each quick step she took. Her eyes were the same colour as her jeans, and of the blue writing displayed along her lavender cropped t-shirt – 'Hyper!' as if no-one could guess.

The owner of the clear blue eyes met her own, expectantly, as if waiting for Mitzi to say something. Dark cocoa eyes broke the eye contact, and the silent owner of those returned the gaze to the street, not quite knowing where she was going still.

Next to her, the strange blonde grew impatient, and she could feel the cold, but emotional gaze, and a voice toned with frustrated sarcasm and bruised pride.

"Hi Madeira, nice to see you! How's it going? Oh I'm fine! Why are you talking to yourself? Because my best friend since preschool is ignoring me. How terrible! Yes, it's a tragedy. Maybe she's stressing about the exams? I don't know why, she's getting straight A's in everything anyway…"

Best friend? Mitzi swore she had never seen this girl in her life. She had to think of something before this 'Madeira' self-destructed. The eccentric young woman continued her monologue.

"So, got any plans for the holidays? Oh yes! I'm gonna go to the beach and get a tan, watch the guys surf, and spend time with my best friend in the whole wide world who's not talking to—"

"Ok OK I get the point! Hi Madeira! Great to see you. Sorry for being rude and ignoring you… it's just—"

"That's alright, but I thought you said you had gotten over that. Parker and I are a couple now. You said that you'd accepted it, that our friendship meant more to you than some boy."

"Parker…" Mitzi muttered the name, having no clue who he was. Madeira misinterpreted the heavily sighed name as something along the lines of reminiscence.

"I know you really liked him, and were angry and hurt when you found out we were together. I'll ask you again: are you OK with it? With us?" Her eyes were soft with serious concern, like her whole character had done a 180. Her cool eyes pierced Mitzi's, searching for an answer.

"Sure." Mitzi replied, not at all worried.

"Positive?" Man, was she persistent or what? Madeira still looked worried.

"Yes." Mitzi was starting to get angry. If this wasn't going to stop, she was going to add a bit more blue to her 'friends' rosy cheeks. She absently wondered if she ever remembered having violent thoughts. If she asked any more questions… well, Mitzi didn't know if she'd be able to curb her reaction or not.

Madeira smiled a smile of two rows of perfect teeth and clapped her hands together.

"OK then! That's great!" She squealed. "I knew you were over it, really and were just playing. You do that sometimes!" Madeira reverted back to being her 'usual' self. Mitzi tried to just sound neutral in the conversation, and let her boisterous friend do all the talking. Half-amusedly she thought she had always done it anyway.

"I… do?"

"Yeah, you do, silly! There was this time right, where you didn't talk to me for two whole days!! I don't think I could do that, I'd burst, or spontaneously combust or something! That's a real feat ya know. It's quite funny really, how we're opposites and stuff but get on really well. You're a good listener."

"Um… thanks." Good listener. Only because she couldn't get a word in edgewise. Not that she particularly wanted to anyhow.

Walking past a street that seemed dark even in the early morning light, Mitzi glanced down it, and then wished she hadn't. She was wracked by dark pangs of.. something, and violently shuddered, and gooseflesh appeared on her arms, neck and back.

"Hey, you all right?" Madeira, although wrapped up in her own world, noticed her friend's sudden discomfort. Mitzi hugged herself for warmth, on this otherwise sunny day.

"Uh.. yeah.. I dunno what it is. Maybe something from a past life." She assumed, and tore her lingering backwards gaze to across the road. It looked a lot safer. "Lets cross here." Whether Madeira followed her or not, she didn't care, and stepped out onto the road.

"Hey, I know!" The girls excited squeaky voice deterred Mitzi from her action, and she moved her foot back to the kerb. She heard a loud whooshing noise that made her put her hands up by her head as a large hover-bus drove past, making her hair flap around, despite the heavy-duty treatment to hold it down.

"SHIT!!" She screamed, only realising how close that was. A little shocked, she turned to Madeira. "Thanks. You.. saved me in a way."

"Ah, no problem! Anyway, what I was going to say was…" And she followed Mitzi across the road, away from the scary vibe coming from the alley. Mitzi was not really listening to her life-saver babble on about seemingly pointless stuff, but right now she was glad for the company. She thanked whoever looked down on the planet that she was a good distance away from that frightful place.

The rest of the journey to school was uneventful, and a warm, chiming tone sounded as they walked into the grounds of East City High. It felt so welcoming, which was weird for a school. There was a bustle and chatter among the students as they walked into the main gates. Madeira squealed and took off as if her underpants were on fire, homing in on her target like a golden-haired meteor.

"Parker!!!!" She flew into the arms of a tall, reasonably athletic guy, whose solid build prevented the both of them from hitting the deck. He wrapped his big hands around the slim blonde, and laughed into her shoulder. Mitzi thought she might be sick, and half-heartedly returned the wave this Parker had given her when finally got one of his hands off Madeira. She thought it a little strange that Madeira had, in her own special way, consoled Mitzi about losing Parker to her. She found she wasn't attracted to him, not even in the slightest.

The two eventually separated, and walked over to Mitzi, who was leaning on a locker, staring at all the different people. A few of them said 'hi'. Some had the nerve to say 'geek' instead of 'hi', but she ignored them and busied herself trying to locate her own locker. She looked at her key ring, and a number was stamped into it. It didn't take much time trying to find the matching number, because as luck would have it, it was next to Madeira's anyway. According to her diary, she had a history exam in about five minutes. She studied her locker intently, as if for the first time, trying to get an idea of who she really was, because right at this very moment, she felt like she had a different mind altogether. At the back there was a picture stuck to the cold metal. She couldn't see it because she was blocking her own light, so she ripped it from its home and brought it to her face. No way. There was just no way. Parker? Yes Parker, with a crudely drawn love-heart around his thickset square-jawed head; his simple, sparkling eyes gazing dreamily out of the well-loved, creased photo.

"Isn't he a dreeeeeeeam?" The high-pitched feminine voice next to her crooned, and Madeira shut her locker with a surprised clang.

"Uh… yeah. I guess." She forced herself to sound semi-convincing.

Concealed by her locker, Mitzi grimaced, almost hating herself for such bad taste in guys, and put the picture right at the back again, not bothering to reattach it to the wall. Her fingers stumbled over something else, something that she couldn't feel as such… more like her fingers knew something was there, but her brain couldn't register what it felt like. It just felt like a pressure with no texture. She made a grab for it, and pulled it out for a closer look. It was a folded up piece of black paper, burnt at the edges. Opening it up, she saw that the writing was done in silver calligraphy, almost gilded. She didn't get time to read what was on the note, because her face was shoved forcefully into her locker from behind, accompanied by a titter of girlish giggling, with subtle bitchy undertones. Startled, she dropped the note onto the floor. As she bent to pick it up, a platform sneaker beat her to it. Above this sneaker, were legs that seemed to go for miles, curvy, athletic and tanned, cut off by a very short scrap of material that began below the hips and ended above mid-thigh, then more flesh – a nicely toned abdomen that boasted UV treatment, with a dainty little piercing in the navel, another scrap of material covering an expansive chest with E.C.H straining across those bountiful perky mounds. A freshly powdered face, flawless with foundation, cold blue eyes lined with harsh black, and lips set in a dark crimson smirk, regarded her, framed with curly, bouncy hair in a half ponytail. Behind her, in the same, self-assured posture, were two other girls wearing the exact same garments as their leader. One ring-decorated hand rested on the border where flesh met fabric on her hip, the other held the note aloft.

"Well, well, what's this? Misty-Pissty has a love-letter!" For some inner reason, Mitzi instantly felt hatred flare at the sickeningly syrupy voice spouting from this girls full lips, which behind which blinding white teeth set in flawless array, helped annunciate each syllable painfully clearly as if Mitzi was some kind of stupid child. At any rate, this bitch needed to be corrected on the pronunciation of her name.

"It's Mit…"

"Lay off her, Suzi!" Mitzi glanced at Madeira in surprise, and in return got a somewhat sympathetic look in return, and smiled. The frizzy haired cheerleader-type turned her attention on Madeira, and almost completely changed her tune, which by now wasn't too surprising.

"Stay out of this, Keiki. Don't involve yourself again. I don't see why you stick up for this nobody. Now… lets see what this morbid little note says." Mitzi cringed. Not even she knew what it said. Suzi's straight, button nose wrinkled in disgust and she curled her lips up in a dissatisfied sneer.

"It doesn't say anything! I should have known. Who would want to go out with such a stunted plain-Jane? You're enough to put any guy off! You couldn't even turn on a tap! Anyway, I'm bored now. Anyone would be from looking at you for too long. So long, you freaky geeky… freak… thing!" Then turned to Madeira. "Whenever you're sick of hanging out with _that_, you're always welcome in our group."

Madeira screwed up her smooth complexion.

"When I do that, I'll make sure I bring my skis." Suzi looked at Madeira in confusion, like she had caught the freak virus all of a sudden.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Because I'm not hanging around with you bunch of fake, vacant snobs. The time I do that is when hell freezes over and you're there with me in your polarfleece! Now get out of my sight! We have…" Madeira paused, as if she was about to say something that wasn't in her nature, "…an exam to get to." She fixed Suzi with a glare that could melt her head. The school beauty huffed, as if she was about to speak, but something in Madeira's stare made her mouth forget to form itself into the right shapes, except for a few syllables that came naturally, and bared her intellect to all.

"Uh, yeah. What-ever." She glared back with only half the power of Madeira's killer look, and huffed off, her minions doing the same. The black piece of paper left her manicured fingertips and fluttered to the ground, forgotten, until Mitzi recovered it clumsily, but still not noticeable enough to draw attention from her peers.

Surrounded by blonde locks, Madeira's face was red.

"Augh! As if we needed the brat-squad. One look at them and your IQ goes out the window! Come on Mitz, Parker, we've got an exam to get to."

Parker looked worried, and felt his girlfriend's head for any sign of fever.

"I'm fine, hon." Mitzi assured her beau. "I'd rather be doing a hundred exams than talk to that jumped up trash."

Mitzi couldn't help but wonder if something had struck a nerve. It wasn't if she was the victim of Suzi's attack. Maybe there was something else. Mitzi's pride was recovering from the blow of having someone stand up for her. For some reason she wasn't quite used to it. As the trio made their way towards the designated classroom where they would take the exam, Madeira seemed to have read Mitzi's mind, or body language, for once.

"She doesn't worry me, Mitz. You know Daddy's pretty high up on the payroll at Capsule Corporation. He doesn't particularly like Suzi's father, and can have him out of work in the blink of an eye." One side of Madeira's cherry lips was raised as she entertained this idea. Although slowly getting used to this, Mitzi was amazed at her friend's unpredictable mood-swings. Madeira's smile of evil musings quickly became lost in a wide grin.

"Hey, good luck with the test Mitzi! You're a gun with history though, you'll breeze through!" She affirmed. Mitzi just gave her an uncertain smile and shrugged.

"Maybe… I hope so…" She said quietly while uneasily threading her fingers through each other; a habit that she was unaware she had picked up.

"Aww Mitz, you're so modest! You remind me of myself." Madeira said quite seriously, and gave her a thumbs-up before busying herself arranging various items for her own luck on the desk she was at.

Parker smiled at Mitzi with a hint of restrained nervousness, as he sat down in his chair.

"Yeah, good luck. See you afterwards."  
"Thanks, I guess…" Mitzi replied, and went to find her seat, which, like the others, were situated in order of their education registration numbers and alphabetically arranged. Parker was somewhere in the middle, and Madeira sat two places behind an empty space. It was a good thing that all the other participants in the exam were already seated, because it made things decidedly easier for Mitzi. It never had occurred to her until now.

How was she supposed to do well in this test if she couldn't even recall her last name?


End file.
